The Best Is Yet To Come
by Sam285
Summary: PJ returns to Mt. Thomas to set things right with Amy, but fates takes a terrible twist. This is another one of my older fics from early to mid 2006.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to Southern Star and Channel Seven - anything else probably belongs to me.

Summary: PJ returns to Mt. Thomas to set things right with Amy, but suddenly fate takes a terrible twist. This is another one of my older fics from early to mid 2006.

All feedback is very welcome!

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**Part 1**

Amy had been unable to curb her excitement from the moment she had gotten the letter. Any moment that she wasn't concentrating on work, her mind was wandering to him and sending anxious shivers up her spine. She hadn't seen him in months, and it would be good to catch up with him again. He always had that way of making her smile. He made it so easy to trust him, even when logic told her otherwise.

And now he was coming back. Any minute now, he would walk through those doors, and Amy had no idea what she would say. She had spent most of the day sitting at her desk, scribbling absentmindedly under the pretense of an overdue report. She kept remembering how they parted, all those months ago. It kept bringing a hint of a smile to her face and she remembered the way he moved his lips towards her's...ready to take the next step with her...but she had been too scared. Too scared of letting herself go, and letting herself get hurt. So she had left everything she wanted to say go unsaid.

He deserved a fresh start, and Amy didn't understand why he would want her to be a part of that. She had brought nothing but hurt and heartbreak to the people she knew, so why would he want to carry that when he could shed that baggage and start again?

That feeling of excitement returned, distracting Amy from her senseless scribbles. She hadn't actually ever stopped to really think about him and how much she missed the way that he managed to make her smile at least once a day. She found herself laughing at the thought of his fishy hankie, or his poor jokes.

Amy let the warmth of the memories consume her and whisk her away from the cold, lonely days she had been living in since. She loved the safety that he had always made her feel. He was stable, and kind, and loving...Amy caught herself at that thought. No, she told herself, don't think like that. Love doesn't exist.

She had decided years ago that love didn't exist – it never did and could never in the future. People would put on acts, use them, and then walk away. Amy had always been a victim of that sort of heartbreak. Even as a child, people would come into her life, fulfill their purpose, and cut the essence of her soul into little pieces on the floor. So she had gotten tough. It was the only way to protect herself.

Excited murmurs erupted in the muster room, snatching Amy's attention away from her silent moment of reflection. She felt a lump rise to her throat, and the words she had so carefully planned fall away. Her breathing began to feel uneven, and her heart raced in her chest. This was it.

He entered the station calmly, and for a moment, it was as though nothing had changed. It was almost like Amy had fallen into a time warp, back when he still worked beside her, solving crimes as a team. A team...

She reluctantly let tears fill her eyes as he looked around, greeting the uniforms with his usual cheery manner. He moved around the room, and it was like he'd never left. He introduced himself to Matt, said hello to the others, and let the Boss pull him into a blokey hug.

Amy tried desperately to swallow the lump. There was no way she was going to pieces in front of him. She couldn't...this time, she had to hang onto common sense and logic. But even that thought deserted her as he approached the CI office, wearing that famous leather jacket of his. She almost wanted to hide away from him, perhaps to crawl under her desk and hide there until he was gone, even if just to save face. She couldn't let her heart take over her head. She'd say things that she didn't mean.

The door opened with a creak, causing Amy to flinch involuntarily. He walked inside, a grin on his face. Amy smiled weakly in return, unsure of what else to do with the uniforms watching. Fortunately, the Boss seemed to have noticed their distraction and sent them back to their work.

He didn't speak to her straight away. Instead, he chose to approach Jonesy, clapping him on the shoulder and congratulating him on making it into 'the big league'. Jonesy flushed a horrible bright red, mumbled something or other about having a cold burg to look into, and left quickly, grabbing Kelly on his way out. Amy watched him go, a half-smile on her face. She was training him well.

She lowered her gaze purposely, pretending that her scribble paper was an actual report. She knew he would never fall for that, he was far too intelligent for that, and proved it by sitting himself on the corner of her desk. He kept his gaze on her most recent scribblings and then followed her eyes as she managed to look at him.

"PJ," Amy choked, her voice shaky and not at all the usual Amy Fox tone. PJ smiled and opened his arms for her, in a silent invitation to the place she desperately wanted to be. Reservations aside, Amy let herself fall into PJ's arms, the warmth overwhelming her.

"Hey, Amy," PJ whispered, rubbing Amy's back kindly and kissing the top of her head gently. Amy could never describe the feeling that washed over her as she let PJ hold her. She felt safe, like nothing could go wrong. He made her feel like anything was possible. She wished that the moment could have lasted a lifetime. "How's things?"

"Better," Amy replied, more for her sake than PJ's, "now you're here."

She thought that she could see satisfaction and contentment in PJ's eyes. She couldn't understand why. After all...who would really feel that way about Amy Fox?


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

Amy eventually broke away from PJ, a huge teary smile plastered on her face. She tried to blink back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, but failed miserably. This became an open invitation for PJ to hold her shoulders and look into her eyes. That look was still there, the one that told Amy that PJ thought of her as more than just an ex-colleague.

She did her best to ignore it.

"I see you've got Jonesy trained up," PJ remarked, thankfully changing the subject. He stood up and walked away from Amy, taking in the office. He had a far-away expression on his face, reminiscing about another time. She nodded as he approached Jonesy's desk and began to shuffle through his papers, nodding to himself. He was still beaming as he picked up a report and inspected it, made a couple of small 'adjustments', and sat it back down again.

"Yeah," Amy whispered softly. "He's a good detective..."

PJ smiled as he approached the window out into the muster room and surveyed the uniforms. Alex appeared to be 'exerting his authority' over Joss, or at least trying to. It was becoming a full-blown argument, with Susie and Matt pretending that nothing was happening. Tom Croydon looked on the verge of stepping in.

"Uniforms...can't live with them, can't live without them," PJ said as he turned to Amy, his eyes sparkling the way they always did. Amy felt a pang go through her heart as she wished desperately that she could learn to let herself go, and love him, but she had practiced so well at hiding away that she couldn't stop.

She nodded absentmindedly and slumped down over her desk, the excited anxiety fading away. Perhaps having PJ back wasn't the greatest idea in the world. So much had changed between them, despite the lack of contact. It was so obvious to Amy now...PJ had deeper feelings for her. Feelings that Amy wasn't sure she could return. She couldn't go back on all the effort she had put into getting where she was now.

Amy apologised silently to PJ in her head, praying desperately that she wouldn't have to say it aloud.

"Hey," PJ said suddenly, causing Amy to look up with a start. "You heading for the Imperial tonight?"

She thought about it, and shook her head. She wasn't a socialite – she never had been, and never would be. Even as a young girl, she could never relate to the people she called 'friends'. Her so-called friends were always so immature, with the usual kid worries of the kid world. But Amy had always had bigger things on her mind – like her parents and her uncle. Her colleagues reminded her so much of those kids she had never related to. They seemed so carefree and innocent, untouched by the kind of hurt she had suffered time and time again.

But PJ was different. Amy opened her mouth to speak, but PJ kept going.

"Okay, well, how about some takeaway at your place then?" he offered, much to Amy's surprise. Didn't he get that no meant no?

Amy picked herself up and walked over to him, smiling for his sake. Logic was screaming at her to say no, to turn him down and get him out of her life again as soon as possible. Safe and secure PJ was now looking very dangerous and risky. But another feeling was swirling around inside her, telling her to go for it. As risky as trusting people was, PJ was still different. He knew about her past...he respected her past.

"Yeah...I'd like that," Amy managed in an uneasy and uncertain tone. But if PJ had picked up on that, then he was choosing not to bring it up. He simply smiled, squeezed her shoulder and headed out into the muster room to speak to Alex. Amy approached the window and watched silently for a couple of minutes, trying to put everything out of her mind.

As the conversation became more animated, Amy turned away. Her mind was reeling from the acceptance of PJ's offer. Ever since the horror that was Garth Henderson, she had tried to block out all notions of a social life. She came to work early, left late, and collapsed into bed each night, falling into constant nightmares.

She had, in particular, tried to keep her colleagues away from her home life. Her 'home' was merely a place she slept; the word meant nothing to her. She had never really known a home since she was a child. Amy didn't expect that to change any time soon.

At 'home', Amy felt more vulnerable then she ever did. There was no Senior Detective Amy Fox to hide behind. There was Just Amy. Just Amy, who was scared and alone in the world. Maybe it didn't really have to be that way. Maybe PJ was the one she was meant to walk this earth with, to lean on when she wasn't strong.

The thought of having someone to wake up to every morning sent a welcome tingle up Amy's spine. To have someone who really adored her, who loved her...

Amy shook it from her mind and returned to her scribbling. She pressed down harder this time, trying to vent her frustrations through the pen to the paper. Her senseless scribbles grew darker, showing Amy's annoyance and confusion.

Why did she have to keep coming up with these ulterior motives in her head?


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Excited anxiety sent another shiver up Amy's spine. Any moment now, that knock would come at her door, and the final secrets she had kept would be exposed. After so long of protecting herself and hiding away, this was it. Someone would be let past the final defences and see the true Amy Fox. Just the thought terrified her.

She let her head rest between her knees as she struggled to get her breathing back in check. She had to get herself back under control – she couldn't afford to lose it in front of PJ. If she did, she would say things that she didn't want to say. Everything she had tried so hard to keep under lock and key would be let out.

Just as Amy thought that she had gotten herself somewhat calm, that knock came, sending her back into her panic. Her breathing became uneven, and she begin to pray that something would get her out of there. She didn't particularly care what, just something to give her an excuse not to keep her date. Was it too late to come down with something semi-serious requiring bed rest?

She sat there for several moments, frozen on her couch. Each time she considered getting up to answer the door, she reminded herself of that look in PJ's eyes. The one that told her that he loved her…the same one that scared her senseless.

"Amez…you there?" PJ called, startling Amy back to earth. She finally climbed to her feet, visibly shaking. Her legs felt like jelly as she walked over to the door and pulled it open. PJ stood on her doorstep, a McDonalds brown paper bag in his arms. He shot her one of his warm smiles – the kind that had comforted her in days gone by. These days, Amy found herself reading far too much into it.

"Hey, Peej," Amy choked as he stood there, waiting for her invitation. He held out the McDonalds as a peace offering, and Amy took it with a smile. She opened the bag to inspect the contents – she hadn't even touched McDonalds since she had been a kid. Being a busy detective, Amy had never really stopped to think about that sort of thing. Dinner for her usually consisted of whatever instant meal she had picked up on the way home. "Come in," Amy finally managed as she indicated towards her small dining table. PJ bent down to pick up his bag and followed Amy through.

Amy resisted the temptation to look back at PJ, keeping her eyes firmly fixed ahead. She couldn't risk showing him weakness, not when he was so close to her core. PJ was so close to the end of the maze that was Amy Fox, and Amy wasn't sure if she wanted him so far in.

"It's very…uncluttered." PJ finally commented as Amy dumped the McDonalds on the dining table. She looked to him in surprise, and noticed that he had one of his infamous smiles on his face. Warmth rushed through her body, causing her to look away quickly. She wished that there were some hole for her to crawl into…maybe this was just some really big mistake.

She cast a glance around her flat – yes, it was very bare for what it should have been after a year and a half. Amy almost laughed at how pathetic this must look to PJ. All of her photos, letters and books were still packed away into generic brown cardboard boxes that lined the walls. Basically the only things within view were the dining room table, couch and TV.

"I…uh…haven't unpacked yet." Amy said uncomfortably, effectively closing the subject. As PJ began to unpack the contents of the McDonalds paper bags, she began to thank her lucky stars that PJ could take a hint.

The smell of the McDonalds mingled with PJ's familiar scent, giving Amy goose bumps as she poured two glasses of wine. She tried to keep herself hidden from him while she tried to calm herself down again. But she couldn't erase that wave of warmth that PJ brought over her body. It was almost funny – she hadn't ever really noticed the effect he had on her until he had been gone for several months. She had never really stopped to think about how much he meant to her until he wasn't there anymore.

"Amy?"

Her head snapped up as she saw PJ holding out the wine for her, still beaming. God, did he ever stop smiling these days? She accepted it and forced a smile for his sake; she owed him that much. He seated himself opposite her and dug in. As he did so, Amy found herself noting the small things about him. Like the way he picked the gherkins off, or the way he ate the big fries first. She soon found herself so lost in him that he had already finished his meal before Amy had even touched her's.

"Not hungry?" PJ asked, snapping Amy's attention back to earth. She looked up, obviously caught out, and found herself smiling involuntarily. It didn't take long, however, for logic to sink in.

"Oh, I…ate earlier." Amy lied, very unconvincingly, but PJ appeared to buy it. He took his rubbish over to the bin, leaving Amy to pull her head together. She was acting like some love-struck teenager, about fifteen years later than she should have. She could vaguely recall her 'friends' from high school, swooning over their crush of the moment. They had tried, time and time again, to set Amy up, but all to no avail. She almost laughed at what they would say now if they saw her barely able to handle McDonalds with a colleague.

She let herself slip yet again into that warm feeling that PJ brought over her these days, the warmth she cursed herself for not noticing all those months ago.

"Amy."

Her head snapped up as she turned to PJ, fry dangling from the tips of her fingers. The first thing she saw was PJ, but there was no pleasure in the way he met her eyes. He was leaning against the cupboard under the sink, right arm across his chest and clutching tightly at his left. He looked so pained, so weak. Amy felt her heart skip several beats in her chest. She had no idea what she was meant to do, her whole body felt like ice.

"Call an ambulance," PJ gasped, each breath shallow and forced, "I think I'm having a heart attack."


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

Amy couldn't move. The fry slipped from her fingers, landing on the floor silently. Her whole body felt like ice, numb and frozen. She could register the pain in PJ's eyes…he needed her to do that one simple act, but she just couldn't move. It felt as though she wasn't in her own body, like everything was happening in slow motion, like it did in the movies. She could feel her own body start to shake, the harsh realization that PJ could die right there and then sinking in hard. It was only seconds later, although it felt like hours, when she sprang from her seat and raced over to PJ, knocking the open bottle of wine to the ground as she went. She knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder for want of something more to do.

"Here…" PJ managed as he fumbled shakily through his pockets for his mobile phone. "Call an ambulance."

Amy had trouble deciding who was in the worse state – her or PJ. PJ leant back and closed his eyes momentarily, obviously waiting. Amy's fingers didn't seem to want to obey anything she told them to. It took her five attempts to press the right buttons to unlock PJ's phone, and then another two to get 000 right. She rose the phone slowly to her right ear, her whole body still awash with the numb feeling.

"It'll be okay…" PJ told her, forcing a smile through the mask of pain. Amy closed her eyes tightly to dispel the tears welling there.

She couldn't recall another phone call that was more difficult than that one. In her terrified numbness, she even managed to forget to identify herself. Pulling rank on people was something Amy was really very good at, and the one time it could have really been a good thing, she had forgotten. And, once she finally got to speak to a human, Amy found herself making stupid mistakes. She was a teary, sobbing mess, to put it lightly. The person on the other end of the phone had to ask her three times for her address.

Eventually, Amy handed the phone back to PJ, the call made. He still had that forced smile on his face. He wordlessly indicated for her lean against him, and Amy was happy to oblige. She couldn't remember ever having been so scared. After so long of having PJ around to talk to, the thought of him being gone for good was terrifying. She rested her head on his shoulder, her mind only seeming to take in PJ's hoarse words of comfort. When she had called for the ambulance, they had told her to keep PJ calm and to comfort him. In typical PJ fashion, it was the other way around.

"Peej…" Amy finally managed to squeak, speaking to him for the first time. He began to play with her hair, although Amy couldn't work out whether he was comforting her or trying to distract himself. That moment seemed to last an eternity, although for all the wrong reasons. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and a huge lump seemed to rise into Amy's throat. Try as she might, she couldn't swallow it back down. She knew that she was meant to be staying calm – PJ needed her to be sane, and he was only a colleague, after all – but Amy just couldn't do it. She wasn't that strong.

Amy's head snapped up when she heard her doorbell ring. The shaking she had managed to mask from PJ had returned, and so did that awful sense of dread. She could lose PJ. PJ could die. He could leave her just like her parents had.

"Amez," PJ managed as he rested his head against her's momentarily, "you need to answer the door."

PJ was right, Amy knew that. But her body was trembling so much that Amy was surprised that she could keep the breath in it at all. Her eyes met PJ's, and she didn't try to mask the frightened look in them.

"I…can't…" Amy whispered softly in a voice she didn't recognise. It was like a child's – scared and weak. Not attributes she would normally associate with Amy Fox. She would expect this sort of behaviour from a six-year-old, not a confident detective in her thirties.

"Open up, it's the ambulance!"

PJ gave her shoulders a weak squeeze, his breathing becoming more and more difficult. It suddenly occurred to Amy that there wasn't time. She climbed to shaky feet and stumbled towards her front door. Almost as soon as she had turned the handle, the ambos pushed in past her, very nearly flattening her against the nearest wall in the process. She was still a teary mess, her tears causing her hair to stick to her cheeks. She tried to hold back her sobbing as the ambos attended to PJ, not letting him say a thing. Her heart went out to him, if it wasn't with him already. He only met her eyes once, but once was enough. She knew that he didn't really care about himself, only her. God, PJ needed to get his priorities sorted.

The ambos wheeled PJ out, almost having to superglue the oxygen mask to PJ's face to stop him from ripping it off. He kept fighting to sit up, reaching out to Amy with a shaky hand. She followed slowly, each step shaky and pained.

"Amy…"

She snapped to attention at the sound of PJ's raspy voice. Their eyes met only fleetingly, sending another pain through her heart. Her own ragged breathing seemed to drown out anything the ambos barked to each other, or the sounds of her curious neighbours, who were gathering on her front lawn. Amy didn't like their puzzled stares – Amy Fox having any visitors was strange enough, let alone male visitors – and she just wished they would go away. They were making this harder than it already was.

"Amy, right?" one ambo said as he approached Amy, she didn't even acknowledge his presence. "Would you like to ride with him to the hospital?"

Amy had to wonder if he even knew who she was. In any other situation, Amy would have smiled at the thought that he probably figured that she was his daughter or niece or something. She had to admit, she was overreacting about someone who was meant to be just a colleague.

"Yeah…yeah, thanks." Amy managed in a voice that seemed so foreign coming out of her mouth. She climbed in beside PJ and found herself at a loss for what to do. He still had that look in his eyes as he rose a hand to brush her tears aside. His hands were softer on her cheek than Amy could have ever imagined. It was like wiping her face with a silk hankie.

PJ let Amy take his hand and held it to her cheek. Right now, she needed him more than ever, and he wasn't going to let her down now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Amy couldn't quite fathom how any of this had happened. PJ Hasham wasn't meant to be lying in a hospital bed, connected to machines. He was meant to be up and about, solving crimes and trying to make her smile. Not fighting for his life like this. Amy could only look into his room through the large glass window from the hallway, watching as the doctors and nurses swarmed around him.

It was all she could do not to cry. Crying at home, or even on her front lawn, was one thing. Crying in the middle of a hospital, when she needed to be calm and in control, was a total other. Amy Fox didn't cry.

She drew in deep, shaky breaths. Another nurse brushed past her as she entered PJ's room, not bothering to even mutter an apology. There were far too many doctors and nurses speaking far too quietly for Amy's liking. No one telling her a damn thing. About the only thing they had said to her so far was confirmation of PJ's suspicion…heart attack. Just the sound of the words made Amy want to throw up.

She had to pull herself together. If not for the sake of her pride, then for PJ. Any moment now, her colleagues would probably come bustling in, and she couldn't break down into tears in front of them. This was hard enough without her turning into a blabbering idiot.

Her head snapped up as the doors at the end of the hallway burst open; Tom entered, dragging Jonesy behind him. Probably the first poor bugger Tom could grab on his way out of the station, Amy figured. She hung her head. Here was the cavalry, perfect timing, as always.

Tom and Jonesy joined her at the window, neither saying a thing. Amy tried to keep her face hidden from them, but they could probably see her reflection on the glass. The dried tears on her face, her smudged mascara – the works.

A hand was placed on her shoulder, and gave it a slight squeeze. Amy couldn't tell who the hand belonged to. It didn't really matter, either. She tried to resist the impulse to throw herself in someone's arms, anyone. Just someone to cry on and hold her. She was at a loss for who that person should be, though. Normally, she'd turn to PJ if she needed something like that. But, naturally, that really wasn't an option.

Jonesy mumbled something or another about fetching some coffees, and headed off down the hallway, hands in his pockets and head down. Much to Amy's annoyance, Tom didn't budge. Like she needed him here when she was just about ready to fall to bits on the hospital floor.

"Don't like hospitals." Tom remarked, the simplicity of the comment enough to cause Amy's head to snap up, exposing herself to her boss. She had never felt so small and weak in her life. She may as well have just been standing there naked, exposed for all to see. Shaking with fear, trembling with grief. The results of Just Amy being shot to pieces.

Tom didn't say another word; he just pulled Amy into his arms in a very uncharacteristic display of comfort. Amy wrapped her arms around his neck, finally giving into the tears that threatened to consume her. He probably needed this as much as she did. It was no secret that Tom Croydon and PJ Hasham had been mates for well over a decade. She let small sobs escape her as she buried her face in his shoulder, letting him rock her gently in his arms. This must be the old Tom she used to hear about, Amy realised in between waves of uncontrollable emotion.

"Shhh…" Tom whispered, continuing to hold Amy tightly. "It'll be okay."

Amy didn't know if she believed it. How many times in her thirty years on this planet had she heard that before? And how many times had it actually panned out? But she wasn't about to argue. She rose her head from Tom Croydon's shoulder slowly, staring blindly at the hospital ceiling momentarily before hiding away again. God, this was a mess.

She lost track of time as she let Tom rock her in his arms, like a father might do a baby. Amy had forgotten what it was like to be held in the arms of a father. Her own father had been dead for almost twenty-three years, and her uncle…well, she wasn't going there. She got the feeling that Tom wasn't used to having somebody along the lines of a daughter in his arms, either.

"I…I got the coffee…" Jonesy said meekly as he returned, juggling three plastic cups of coffee. Tom gave her a final squeeze before holding her at arm's length, smiling weakly. Was Tom Croydon crying? Amy eventually snapped to her senses and took the coffee from Jonesy shakily. So much for staying strong for PJ…

She turned back to PJ's room. Some of the hospital staff had dispersed, giving them a clear view of PJ. He was lying on his back, blanket pulled up to his waist, his shirt unbuttoned. Amy felt her body shudder involuntarily as she let a pang go through her heart. The whole night felt like a blur. A harmless dinner of McDonalds…PJ telling her to call an ambulance…being nearly flattened against the wall…the neighbours who couldn't keep their noses out of her business…

She could tell that she was going to have a massive headache tomorrow. And a lot of explaining to do.

"He'll be right," Jonesy finally said, breaking the silence. Tom was startled so much that he accidentally split some of his coffee on his shirt. He cursed quietly as he wiped it clean with a hankie. The sent Amy's mind back to PJ's fishy hankie…oh, God, this couldn't be happening. "PJ's strong. He won't let this keep him down."

"Yeah, yeah…" Tom said in agreement as he sat his coffee down on a nearby chair while his cleaned his shirt up properly. Amy watched through the tears that had settled in her eyes as he eventually gave up and stuffed the hankie back into his shirt pocket. "I've seen him cope with losing two fiancés, keep a police station in order, clear his name on numerous occasions, have mates leave unexpectedly and deal with distressed colleagues. He'll be fine."

Amy folded her arms across her body, hoping it would warm her up a little. It didn't do much good, but unless the Boss was planning anymore of his hugs, it would have to do. She was vaguely aware of how much of a mess she looked; her once perfectly groomed hair now looked mattered and knotty. The persona of strength that Amy gave off everyday had vanished without a trace, leaving behind a woman with all the strength of a child.

She couldn't help it. The tears overwhelmed her, causing Amy to crawl up against the glass window, curled into a sobbing ball. She brought her knees to her chin, her arms wrapped tightly around them. She trembled as each sob left her body. In any other state, Amy would never have let that happen. Amy Fox was _never_ meant to do something like this. She had learnt long ago, after Garth 'Wanker' Henderson not to show weakness. It had become her number one rule. And here she was, in a public hospital corridor, pouring her eyes out. The last time she had cried so hard was when she had been left at the train station. And before that had probably when her parents had died, although she had been more bewildered than devastated.

She was vaguely aware of Jonesy crouching down beside her and pulling her into his arms. Tom watched from where he stood as Jonesy held Amy, letting her sob into his jacket. Amy didn't bother to wrap her arms around Jonesy's neck this time. She just curled up against his chest, almost like she had curled up in her bed the night her parents had died.

Stuff being strong Amy Fox. Right now, she needed a good cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

Beth Fox looked at herself in the mirror, blotchy face, red eyes and all. Her brown hair clinging to her face, held there by a constant stream of tears. She wrapped her arms around herself, the chill of the winter almost literally freezing her. She tightened her old grey dressing gown, the one that Amy had thrown up on six years prior.

"Mummy?"

Beth turned with a start to see her little baby girl, seven-year-old Amy, standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other clutching at her ragged old pink teddy bear. Her waist-length brown hair was tied off her face into a long plait and her pink pyjamas creased from sleep.

She dried her eyes as best she could and sat down on the big brass kind-size bed, patting the quilt beside her in invitation for Amy to join her. The young girl crawled up beside her mother.

"Hey, sweetie…what are you doing up at this hour?" Beth remarked, draping an arm loosely around Amy's shoulders. Amy curled up to the woman, regarding her in confusion.

"I saw the ambulance…where's Daddy?" Amy answered gently, her voice quiet and pleasant. It struck Beth how lucky she was to score such a delightful daughter.

"Daddy's…Daddy's sick, that's all." Beth whispered in response, unsure how to explain something so adult to someone so young. But Amy was perceptive. She could see the tears forming in her mother's eyes. She reached up slowly and wiped one away.

"Is he going to die?" Amy asked, her voice quavering just slightly. Beth tried to force a tone of certainty into her voice.

"No, no…of course not." Beth managed, pulling Amy into a hug. She rested her chin on top of her head, closing her eyes in silent thought. "You know why?"

Beth broke away from her daughter and held her by her shoulders. She used her thumb to brush away an idle tear that played on Amy's cheek. Amy shook her head.

"No," she answered meekly.

"The best is yet to come." Beth said. It was all she could do not to burst into tears. Her husband had just collapsed from a heart attack, and here she was, trying to remember something she had heard so long ago. "My mum told me that when I was a little girl. No matter how bad it gets, the best is yet to come. Remember that, Amy."

Beth pulled her daughter back into her arms, letting Amy curl up against her chest. Amy clung at her mother's dressing gown, milling over the words in her mind.

"The best is yet to come…" Amy whispered softly, before closing her eyes and letting numbness wash over her.

"Amy?"

Amy awoke with as start from where she had dozed off the night before. Her body felt cramped and uncomfortable – she had fallen asleep in a waiting room chair. She pulled herself into a sitting position, the dream returning to her. The best is yet to come…she had stopped believing that years ago. After all, the best have never seemed to come. But why on earth would that dream choose now, of all times, to surface?

Dr. Ash stood over Amy, clipboard in hand. Amy didn't like this feeling of weakness that flowed through her. It had been going through her since PJ had pretty much collapsed. She had lost all control over her life and PJ, and she was just left to float, hoping that things would work out.

"He's awake, you know." Dr. Ash pointed out, tightening her grip on the clipboard. "You can go in and see him…but just be gentle."

Amy didn't wait around to hear if there was anymore. She jumped from her seat and bounded off to PJ's room, nearly bowling over Dr. Ash and a few nurses as she went. Hesitation set in as she reached his room; her hand pausing over the door handle.

She let her forehead rest against the cold hospital door, choking down the recurring tears. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she began to think. About her future, and PJ's future. Just twenty-four hours ago, she had been shaking with excitement. And now, she was shaking with fear. It was like she was in a very bad dream, and any moment now she would wake up and find things as they should be. Amy closed her eyes, trying to dispel that bloody quote from her head. Of all the days…

Finally, Amy pushed the door open with a shaking hand, exposing the sad sight that she had crumbled in front of last night. But this time, PJ was awake, his eyes shining with a bizarre blend of weakness and hope.

"Hey, Amy," he managed in a raspy voice that Amy hadn't heard before. In another situation, she might have enjoyed the irony of PJ being the weak one, while she had to be strong, instead of it being the other way around. But right now, she couldn't care less. Amy walked over to PJ slowly, each step forced and painful.

"Peej." Amy finally choked out as she sat on the chair beside him, trying to hide her face from PJ. But he seemed to be able to read her mind – at least some things would never change, Amy reflected – and lifted a shaky hand to her cheek. He smiled to himself as he rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone, before letting it come to rest on her chin. Amy forced a teary smile for him as she tried to let herself feel comfortable under his touch. Trusting someone felt better than Amy remembered it feeling. Like a big weight had just been lifted from her shoulders.

Amy let PJ run his hand along her cheek for several minutes, the smile on his face comforting her more than she could have imagined something so simple to do.

"The best is yet to come…" Amy finally mumbled to herself. PJ had clearly heard, but appeared to be choosing to ignore it. He stopped playing with her cheek and let his hand fall back by his side. He still kept that smile on his face as Amy stood up and pulled her chair closer to PJ's side.

Heck, maybe her mother had been right after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

Amy surprised herself with how quickly she had settled into a little routine with PJ. Every day for the last week, she would go into work, cunningly avoiding all questions related to PJ's health or her social life. Each night she would leave far earlier than she normally would have – so early that Kelly and Joss hadn't even retired to the pub for their traditional game of pool.

She would dump her bag off at her flat – not wanting to stay any longer than absolutely necessary – and head to the hospital, where she would begin her nightly beside vigil in the uncomfortable hospital chair beside PJ's bed. Some nights, Amy would lay beside PJ in his hospital bed, her arm folded under her head, and they would talk. They never spoke of their deepening feelings for one another; it was usually light conversation about what had happened in Mt. Thomas since PJ had left, or what Cold Case was like. Amy had noticed that PJ had carefully avoided talk of Garth Henderson, for which she was eternally grateful. One of the many signs that he knew her better than she thought he did.

That night was no different. Amy wandered into the hospital, visiting hours long finished but no one seemed to care. She greeted Dr. Sophie Ash with a smile and wave – they were almost on first name terms these days – and headed straight for PJ's room. Room 24…she could find it with her eyes closed she had been there so often. What she wasn't prepared to see, however, were two figures standing beside PJ's bed. One male and one female.

She moved into the doorway, quite unsure of what to think. It took her mere seconds to recognise the male figure – Senior Detective Garth Henderson, about the last person she wanted to see – but it was the woman who kept her attention. Long blonde hair and flawless skin; the sort of person who wore tops cut too low and skirts cut way too high. The pair spun to face Amy, and a slight smile spread across PJ's face.

"Amy…" Garth mumbled, in the way he always seemed to whenever they came face to face. She steeled herself against anything he had to say to her; last time he was in town, he had quite bluntly told her that he still had feelings for her. The woman smiled with one of those sneering kind of grins. Amy immediately decided, before this woman had even opened her mouth, that they would never get along. "It's…uh…good to see you…"

Amy merely nodded in acknowledgement. Her gaze fell once again upon the mystery woman, who sat by PJ's bedside wearing a rather revealing top and skirt. The woman was holding PJ's hand, and he was making no effort to push her away. Amy silently fumed, until she was distracted by a hand on her shoulder. She flinched under the touch, and spun to see Garth standing right behind her, holding his hand like he had been burned.

"We…need to talk…" Garth said, indicating for the door. Amy didn't even give PJ a nod of acknowledgement as she stalked out, stamping her feet just that little bit louder on the hospital floor, hoping that PJ's amazing ability to take all her hints wouldn't fail him now.

Garth grabbed her wrists hard and fast, rooting her to the spot just outside PJ's room, so that the pair left inside were within clear view. His demeanour demanded her attention, and it wasn't long before Amy surrendered and met his gaze. He was wearing that aftershave she had always hated, and that shirt he always seemed to be wearing.

She tried her hardest to shoot him one of her infamous death glares, the ones she had spent hours practicing during her early Constable days, but she failed miserably. Too many nights spent lying beside PJ, talking into the early hours of the morning had left her thoroughly drained. It was only now that she had stopped long enough to see that.

As soon as Garth spoke, Amy knew that he could still read her mind like he used to.

"That's Senior Detective Laura Patterson," he told her, his voice sharp, "and there's nothing going on between her and PJ…trust me."

She may not have been able to manage a death glare, but she could still narrow her eyes in contempt. She folded her arms across her chest, partly in frustration with Garth and partly because of the cold shiver that hospitals always sent up her spine, now more than ever. "You seem pretty sure of that," she spat.

Garth looked away briefly, long enough to let a small smile creep across his face and let a small laugh escape his lips. His eyes immediately brightened as he looked up and met Amy's gaze again. She couldn't remember a time she had actually seen him looking so damn pleased with himself.

"There'd better not be," he pointed out, "seeing as she's my fiancé."

If the hospital floor didn't look so hard and uncomfortable, Amy might have passed out then and there. She had to look back into PJ's room and suss out Laura Patterson again. Even after several minutes, she still couldn't quite fathom the idea that Garth Henderson was getting married to a woman like Laura, although, looking back, she couldn't quite fathom the idea of Garth Henderson getting married full stop. Eventually, she looked back to Garth, an uncertain smile pushing its way into her features.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, then." Amy said quietly. She could actually feel her body relax; PJ was her's and only her's for a little while longer at least. After sharing this last week of turmoil, Amy suddenly realised that she didn't like the idea of sharing PJ with anybody, least of all Senior Detective Laura Patterson.

Garth's smile broadened, if that was possible, and Amy took this as her cue to head back into PJ. It wasn't. Garth grabbed her forearm, stopping her in her tracks in the hospital corridor she had burst into tears in just a week prior.

"He really cares about you, you know." Garth explained, his voice taking on a deadly serious note. Amy paused, the uncertain smile fading into plain uncertainty. Garth relinquished his grip, but Amy still didn't move. Although she felt a flicker of fear pass through her heart, she knew that she had to hear whatever Garth had to say. "He's the only one in Cold Case who isn't happily single."

An uneasy silence fell upon them; so much Amy could almost hear it echoing down the hospital corridor. As much as she wanted to break eye contact with Garth, she couldn't quite bring herself to. She had to make sure that he was telling the truth, although something deep inside her that she didn't listen to very often was telling her that he wasn't.

"Some of the younger members have tried setting him up on dates." Garth continued, apparently trying to ignore the uncertainty passing through Amy's eyes. "Some of the girls have told me that they go out, expecting a romantic dinner, and end up having to sit through PJ rabbiting on about some Detective he worked with out in the sticks. A few weeks ago, one of the more junior members asked him to describe his ideal partner. I just happened to overhear, but I could have sworn that he was talking about you."

Amy felt herself losing control over her breathing as she stood before Garth, just willing herself to walk away from Garth and PJ and Laura bloody Patterson and everything else that was too confusing in her life. But she couldn't. Something was keeping her standing there, possibly the same thing that had made her agree to have PJ over for dinner, or let PJ kiss her cheek all those months ago. It was something that Amy hadn't known for so long, that she couldn't be sure that it had ever existed at all.

"I made him come back to Mt. Thomas." Garth continued to explain, seeming to take no notice of Amy anymore. "I told him that if he really cared about you, then he should let you know how he felt. I knew that if he didn't, I may as well not even have him in the crew."

As another bout of silence fell over them, Amy decided to finally speak. She opened her mouth, only to find herself tasting salty tears. She had been crying for the last few minutes, but it had been such a natural reaction that she hadn't realised.

"When is he planning on going back to Melbourne?" Amy asked quietly, her voice shaky and weak. She rose a hand to her face, wiping away the tears that she couldn't hold back.

Garth shifted his position so he was leaning against the wall beside the large glass window, his arms folded over his chest. Even now, he didn't break their gaze.

"That's why Laura and I came, actually," he said with a half-laugh, "PJ rang us early this morning…he's not coming back to Cold Case. Said he'd line up a CI gig in Mt. Thomas once he was well again. I had to come down and speak to him, just to see if he'd managed to talk things through with you."

Amy found a lump rising uncomfortably to her throat. It took her several moments before she could clear her throat enough to speak without the words getting lost. She closed her eyes, fighting to regain composure. This was such a textbook example of what happened when Amy Fox got stressed out. She got teary.

"What are you trying to say?" she asked in a voice so small that she wasn't sure if Garth had even heard. Apparently he had, because he moved away from the wall and closed the gap between them, placing his hands on her shoulders for emphasis. He shook her gently, their noses just centimetres apart.

"I'm saying that he loves you." Garth said, his voice about as blunt as it got. "PJ Hasham loves you. He probably has from the moment he saw you. And I'll be damned if you don't feel the same way back!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

Amy sat in the chair beside PJ, the sound of a cleaner's vacuum, coupled with Garth's words, slowly giving her a headache. She didn't know why she couldn't get those words out of her head. She had managed to skilfully avoid any remote notion of love for so long, that it seemed unfeasible that it was now sitting on her doorstep, waiting to be let inside.

PJ slept on beside her, the concerned expression he had worn since Garth and Laura had left still imprinted clearly on his face. Amy watched him through wide green eyes, her knees brought up close to her chest. She had long given up on love. Over her lifetime, love had always been accompanied by heartache and pain. She no longer knew what the sort of love people like Jonesy and Susie spoke about meant. Least of all the kind that Garth was certain PJ felt for her.

She heaved a great sigh, pressing her fingertips to her lips in the hopes that it would help give her an answer to the millions of questions running through her mind. It wasn't doing any good in the slightest. It was times like these that she would turn to PJ, or at least Tom, for advice, but neither was really appropriate right now. PJ was at the centre of her dilemma, and there was no way she was waking her Boss up at three in the morning just to ask if he thought PJ loved her. It wasn't like he could give her an answer, anyway.

"Do you love me, PJ?" she asked in the smallest of whispers, watching as PJ's chest rose and fell rhythmically. He gave her no answer except the steady beating of heart monitors and the occasional snore. She drew her knees up closer to her chin and sighed again. "Nah…I didn't think you'd be able to help me this time."

Amy gave a quiet yawn as she stood up, letting her body stretch out for the first time in hours. She wandered out of PJ's room and into the dimly lit corridor just outside. It was eerily quiet, giving Amy the awful sense of dread that always accompanied hospital visits. From that moment she had woken up after the car accident in a bed in the children's ward, hospitals had given her a cold wash of fear. It was a place of death; a fishbowl where many people went to die. It seemed strange to her that so many years after her parents' deaths, she was living life out of this fishbowl. She was making the most important decisions of her life in a cold white corridor.

A nurse brushed past her, scurrying down the corridor the way Amy had come. Amy paused and watched after her, her green eyes shining with the reflection from the overhead lights. Her expression became blank as she pulled her black jacket tighter around her frame and kept walking, to where she didn't know. Maybe just somewhere where she could work out what to do about Garth's revelation.

This was something she should probably talk to Susie, Kelly or maybe even Chris about. They had all had their fair share of brushes with love, and Amy had a feeling that they had all ended up a whole lot more pleasant than her's had. Susie had her on/off thing with Jonesy, Kelly could have any guy she pleased, and even Chris had a close bond with Tom. Reminiscent of her and PJ, in memory.

She turned and began to wander back to PJ's room, feeling a lot like a fish out of water. At least in PJ's room she felt safe, cared for. And, dare she say it, loved.

Amy closed the door to PJ's room just as he stirred from his slumber, his mouth twisting into a smile as he caught sight of her. Amy had to smile back to him; no matter what she thought of love, PJ did make her happy. And wasn't that the most important thing?

"Where'd you go?" PJ asked curiously as Amy sat herself beside him on his bed, playing with a section of blanket between her thumb and forefinger.

She shrugged his question off, and brushed the back of her hand along his cheek. It was soft, a lot softer than she would have thought. There were a lot of things about PJ that she never would have guessed. Like the fact that he loved her, whatever love was.

"Just for a bit of a walk…I had to clear my head a bit." Amy answered. PJ seemed to obliging move over to the right side of the bed, and patted the area beside him. It was their own personal silent invitation. Without another word, Amy climbed in beside him, bending an arm beneath her head so PJ could keep the pillow. She left her eyes close briefly as PJ played with a few strands of her hair, just like that night a week ago when this had all began. If PJ hadn't had that heart attack, then God only knew where they'd be instead of lying side by side, two figures in a bed with their hearts beating as one.

"Did Garth say something to you?" PJ asked gently, his voice softening as it always did when he invited Amy to lie beside him. She tried to think of something to say, but eventually words failed her, and she just nodded. She snuggled deeper within the horribly thin hospital blankets, and tried to brighter her smile.

"Why did you come back to Mt. Thomas?" Amy whispered, her voice scarcely loud enough for even PJ to hear. He seemed to be thinking her question over considerably, before moving his body closer to Amy's, so they almost touched. Much to his – and Amy's – surprise, she didn't pull away or even flinch in fear.

PJ raised a hand and placed it on her cheek gently, his touch as soft as it had been in the ambulance. Amy felt her heart skip several beats in excitement. Whatever had been holding her back before was gone. This was it.

"I didn't come back to Mt. Thomas…I came back to you." PJ's voice was so sincere, that it brought several tears to Amy's eyes. She smiled and removed the distance between herself and PJ, and instantly felt the final wall she had barricaded PJ with come down. They were fully clothed, but Amy didn't care, and she knew PJ didn't either. It didn't matter that it was a hospital; the dreaded fishbowl Amy couldn't stand.

PJ moved his lips gently towards her's, the touch something so longed for that Amy could have almost believed it were all just a dream. His arms tightened around her waist, and Amy felt a feeling rise within her that had been downtrodden into non-existence for far too long.

Tonight would be the first night of the rest of her life.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**

Amy let the pen drop from her hands as she rose her fingertips to her temples. She massaged them, her eyes closed as she tried to turn her thoughts to writing a rock-solid brief for the up-coming case. Yes, Jonesy was probably meant to be doing this, but she had decided to let him go early. He and Susie were really making a go of things this time; maybe it was her and PJ that had become their inspiration.

Warm arms wrapped around her shoulders, as all too familiar lips made their way up her neck and along her cheek. A playful smile spread across her face as she let herself be romanced by PJ Hasham…the man she planned to spend every morning waking up beside, the man she wanted to be with forever.

It had been a little over a month since PJ's heart attack, and the long hospital nights that had ultimately weakened her painful resolve. He had been out of hospital for a little less than a week, and although he hadn't returned to work, he seemed to be spending most of his time drifting around the station and watching over his colleagues' shoulders. When Sophie decided that PJ would be fit for duty, he would take up a CI posting in Mt. Thomas, something that not even Falcon-Price could deny him. Amy and Jonesy hadn't worked out exactly how they planned to squeeze a third desk into their office, but they knew they'd think of something.

A familiar whistle came from the muster room as the uniforms caught sight of PJ and Amy's embrace. It was usually Joss or Alex who led the cheering whenever they locked lips – perhaps because they were the only two single officers left in the team these days.

Amy closed her eyes as she let herself fall into the warmth that was her new life with PJ. It felt as though she had been reborn through her relationship with PJ, and was becoming a new person. It had also brought about new changes in the Mt. Thomas Police Station.

Just days after Amy had let herself go with PJ; she had received word that Susie and Jonesy had hooked up again for the trillionth time. Amy knew that they'd make it now, now that the things that had once torn them apart mattered so little. Whenever Jonesy had to go out on a case, he'd take special care to ensure it was Susie who got to come with him, and Amy knew exactly what they got up to in the CI car. Not that she could blame them…as long as they weren't disrupting normal work, they were generally allowed to go at it as much as they liked.

In recent days, Amy could help but notice that Matt and Kelly seemed to be closer than ever before. The pair would always be volunteering for extra patrols and night surveillance operations, often just for the privacy of the patrol car. At first, Amy had been quite entertained with watching Alex and Tom's exasperation at the idea that two Constables were sneaking around together, but there was no way of stopping them. Now, neither seemed to care. They weren't as skilled at hiding away for secret kisses as Susie and Jonesy. Amy had lost count of the times she would go to grab a cup of coffee and walk in on Matt and Kelly half-undressed in the station mess room.

Even Tom seemed to be moving on. It had been a bit of a joke between PJ and Amy when they first discovered his newfound relationship with Chris Riley, but the joke had lost it's appeal once they'd realised that it was no different from them. Good friends becoming good lovers.

Amy stood up from her desk and wrapped her arms around PJ's neck, letting their lips meet. She was sure that she could taste the seafood they had been eating at lunchtime as she heard applause from the muster room increase as Matt and Kelly returned from one of their 'secret' rendezvous'. It wasn't long before Tom ended what had been a long phone conversation – with Chris, no doubt – and stormed out into the main station, instantly silencing his younger charges. Amy and PJ broke away to watch as Tom sent Kelly and Joss out on patrol, much to Matt's disdain and mumbled something under his breath about in-office relationships as he retreated back to his office.

Amy laughed as she turned back to PJ, smiling more broadly than she could ever remember smiling in her entire life. Eighteen months, she could never have imagined falling into PJ's arms. Yes, she had admired him, and she had respected him, but she hadn't cared for him. It was funny how much things could change.

Even though they had been together for little over three weeks, Amy still couldn't say the L-word. She still couldn't just look him in the eye and tell him that she loved him. As much as she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with PJ, and as much as she knew that they had been brought together for a reason, she refused to use that one four-letter word.

She couldn't tell PJ she loved him when love created an image in the back of her mind of the pain and hurt her uncle had inflicted years before. Not when it still made her want to hide under the covers of her bed at the mere thought.

No, she wouldn't tell PJ she loved him until she could hear the word and the first thing that came to mind would be PJ's loving face, and the feeling as she lay in his arms every morning before they had to get up and face the real world.

Not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but some day she would have the courage and the conviction to wake up and curl further into his arms, and she would say the three words that would seal their relationship forever. Just three little words that meant more to them than to anybody else in the world.

One day, Amy knew, she would tell PJ that she loved him, and she would mean it. It would come from deep in her heart and would signal a new beginning. It would be the first day of true freedom, where she would finally shed the cocoon of pain that her uncle had brought to her and emerge a butterfly, and would dance up into the sky with PJ at her side.

And the best would have finally come.

_Heartache, more or less, so useless, all the heartache_

_But when the flood of sudden tears came down_

_We smiled and stood our ground_

_And the laughter we'd been counting on_

_It finally came around_

_And the best is yet to come_

_This is only the beginning_

_And we've only just begun_

_To realise the best is yet come_


End file.
